Discovering Yourself
by Celeste Goodchild
Summary: Four old stories forming a neat quartet. You've seen all the stories about the Inner Senshi and the Kings -- but what happens if the Kings meet the OUTER Senshi?
1. Right Here Waiting

Hmm. Another strange little pet project…like other people, I have a morbid fascination of how Kunzite must have felt when Beryl blasted Zoisite, but unlike some people, I don't believe that Kunzite is the type to go and find a choice piece of ass to dim his heartache with. I never thought he would be that shallow, he's too reserved, and thinks WAY too much. Besides, he loved Zoisite! I'm not saying he had to remain celibate after Zoi-chan died, and I know that a dead person isn't much good in a healthy relationship (except for necrophiliacs – but that ain't too healthy, is it?), but come on…Zoisite wasn't dead that long! He was barely cold in his grave when Kunzite died!

Shut up, Celeste. Okay, I will, and I say – "here's my version of what happens when Kunzite goes for 'a walk' when depressed about Zoisite." Enjoy!

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Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics and Toei Animation.

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Right Here Waiting

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Sometimes, he wondered why he bothered. The life of a Dark Kingdom king was severely over-rated, he was now discovering. He had managed to get through the bleakness of this gloomy life, because he had had a reason to do so. 

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("Viva forever,")

A reason to be stronger than he ever was, a reason to continue on with a life lived in shades of a darker grey. The only reason he had to keep on living.

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("I'll be waiting…")

He had been so temperamental. So out of control when his grip on his temper failed – which was often. Zoisite never had been too good with his temper.

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("Everlasting, like the sun…")

Beryl must have known what this would do to him. She would have been blind if she had not realised the deeper undertones of the student-teacher relationship. Her spies were not that bad, even if they were only youma.

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("Live forever…for the moment…")

He sighed heavily, wondering how his life could have become such a disaster in such a short period of time. Only weeks ago, he had been the happiest he'd ever been – though he'd seemed no different on the outside. And that hurt. He had loved Zoisite with all his heart, and yet, he had never told him just how much he had actually meant to him. And now he would never know.

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("Ever searching…for the one.")

Slamming his fist into the table, Kunzite felt the familiar build up of rage and hurt-filled anger in his aching heart. Anger at those who had caused his death, anger at Zoisite for being so impulsive…but most of all, his anger was directed at himself. He should have been able to stop Zoisite from trying to kill that idiot, Tuxedo Kamen, he should have been able to protect Zoisite from Queen Beryl, he should have been able…

"To tell him I loved him," he whispered into the darkness. Looking back, with a sinking heart, he saw how little he had shown his great affection to the little fiery student. How little he had told him how much he meant to him. How he had never come right out and said that he loved him with all his heart. Oh, sure, he had danced around it, playfully dangling his heart in front of Zoisite like a rich plum he'd never be able to eat. But, then of course, how could he have known? He had thought Zoisite would be by his side forever…

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("Wrap me up in always…and drag me in with maybes…")

"I'm sorry," he whispered, praying that Zoisite could still hear him, wherever he was. "I would have loved you forever…can you hear me? Oh, Zoisite…"

He stood abruptly, and opened a weary gate. He wanted out of this life, out of this room that echoed with the soft laughter of his dead lover, where, with every turn, he could see those sparkling green eyes, and when he reached out, they were gone…because he was just imagining things…

The Tokyo street was deserted – it must be about eleven o'clock at night, Kunzite estimated. This was just great – the silence of the dim streets was no better than the painful solitude of the Dark Kingdom!

With a sigh of disgust, Kunzite turned, and returned to his chambers.

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The morning brought a headache, eyes blurred from the tears he could weep only when asleep, and his mind no better off.

Beryl had not called him as of yet, and Kunzite welcomed the respite. As he brushed his long, pale hair, his thoughts drifted to Zoisite, as they always tended to do. Zoisite had loved his hair, was constantly messing with it, touching it, stroking it, loving it…

"Enough!" he muttered, and opened the gate again. This time, he was going to stay in Tokyo for at least an hour. Just to escape memories he was beginning to wish he didn't have.

He blinked his silvery eyes against the brightness of the sun, before raising a long-fingered hand to blot out the cheerfully glowing orb in the sky. From the looks of it, it was a bright and early Tokyo morning. Kunzite had never felt so out of place, as he dissolved his uniform into an outfit that consisted completely of the colour black. He hadn't thought about the choice – and he smiled sarcastically at his own mind. _Mourning in black, how dramatic_, he thought to himself, and if he hadn't been so upset, he probably would have laughed at his own fragility. He felt like he was slowly going insane.

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("I hear your voice…") 

He could still hear the soft tenor of his lover, the gentle voice – though only for him. It was only Kunzite to whom Zoisite spoke gently, with love, real love, his eyes shining, burning with an unequalled love. For Zoisite, there was no greater love. Kunzite knew that he was the same…but it was bittersweet knowledge. He knew that he had loved Zoisite beyond reason 

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("But it doesn't stop the pain…")

but he had neglected and abused that love. Now, he had only shadows, memories. And what purpose did memories have? What good were they? They were only something to torture yourself with!

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("I hear the laughter…")

("I taste the tears…")

("But I can't get near you now…")

With a deep, melancholy sigh, Kunzite shook his head, and began to walk. He didn't know where he was going, and he couldn't honestly care. The death of his only light had plunged him into darkness. He was groping around in pitch black, and he didn't mind the depth of this darkness. If he was blind, he wouldn't see the end. Ignorance was bliss – and there was little that made him happy.

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There was one thing that made me happy…once upon a more enlightened time…

The Tokyo morning was bright and sunny, though the air was a touch chilly. Kunzite, however, neither felt nor cared about the cold. He wore his apathy like a cloak to shield him from the cruelty of reality. 

He had walked quite some distance down the quiet street when he became aware of his only companion. A slight girl had fallen into step just ahead of him, and she walked slowly, her head lowered. She was dressed in some kind of school uniform, from what he could see. A red top, and a green pleated skirt, a plaid design of dark green lines to contrast with the lighter green of the skirt. Her hair was short and dark – but for some weird reason, she held his attention, though her face was not visible.

He shook his head, and lowered his face to look at the pavement. He was beginning to think about Zoisite again – the way he had smiled sweetly at him, and leant forward to brush a hand over his, just to feel him near, to show that even if Kunzite couldn't admit it, Zoisite wasn't afraid to show him he loved him…

Hearing a strange sound broke him out of the painful memory. Looking up, he was startled to see the girl leaning heavily against the wall, breathing heavily. Her shoulder was pressed into the wall, one hand to her head.

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What do I care? It's just some foolish human girl…just like the Sailor brat who is partly responsible for Zoisite's death. Her, and that baka idiot Endymion…

"But I am not also accountable for his death?" he whispered, stopping to stare at his own hands. The girl, who seemed on the verge of collapse, was still several metres ahead. "Is his blood not on my hands?"

Deciding in an instant, he moved to the girl's side, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked in an oddly kind voice, looking to the girl hesitantly. Her face was turned away, masked by her short curtain of dark hair. She was breathing shallowly, and when she looked up, the paleness of her face startled him. Until he caught her gaze.

Eyes so deep and wide, violet to a fold…a secret never to be told. They were so deep, he could almost see himself in them…they were the most extraordinary eyes he had ever seen. They were much more beautiful than even Zoisite's, but this girl…her eyes were tortured, like she had seen great sadness or suffering in her life. And it must have been a short life – she couldn't be more than seventeen years old. 

Unable to speak, Kunzite could only stare at the girl, who only stared silently back at him. The only sound in the silent street was the sound of her shallow breathing, her panting. 

"I'm…okay," she finally murmured in a soft, mellifluous voice. Trying to stand, she wavered slightly, and Kunzite immediately steadied her without thought. For some reason, helping this girl did not seem against his dark nature. "I…I just have these spells, sometimes…I'll…be all right. I think…"

She teetered again, and Kunzite automatically put an arm around her, and this time, he didn't release the smaller girl. Without really thinking about it, he led her into the nearest park, which had a crystalline lake, and trees that seemed to speak when their leaves rustled in the gentle frosty breeze. What got his attention was one of the benches before the lake, where he led her. He helped her sit down, before releasing her. He stood a little awkwardly before her, suddenly struck by amazement. Why had he helped this mortal?

She had her wondrous eyes closed, as she leant back on the bench. The girl was not exactly beautiful – but she _was_ something very special. Her beauty came from inside somehow, and enhanced her outer prettiness, magnifying it many times. This strange aura reminded him so greatly of some one else, yet he couldn't place a finger on it. All he knew was that if it weren't for the other aura about the girl, he would have left more or less then and there. It was the…darker aura. Like he was seeing someone else…

Someone like him. Something cold…something dark.

She finally opened her phenomenal eyes again, and she smiled so sweetly at him it made his heart ache. The girl did not have the sharply pretty features, or the coppery golden hair, but the smile…the innocence, the perfect trust behind that smile, it reminded him so greatly of what he had lost.

"Arigatoo gozaimasu," she said softly, the smile not leaving her delicate features. 

"You're very welcome," he echoed in reply, unable to take his eyes from those of the girl. Without really thinking about it, he sat beside her. "Does that happen to you often?"

Looking wistful, the pale girl nodded. "Occasionally. I just…get tired. I think I'm getting over it, but…I suppose I just have a weak physiology."

He nodded softly, still unable to think of what to say to her. The mysterious aura about her hadn't faded – if anything, it felt as if it had grown. Her temporary resemblance to Zoisite had faded, and he wondered if he hadn't imagined the whole thing. 

She suddenly looked startled. "Oh, I'm being rude! My name is Tomoe Hotaru," she offered, almost shyly, extending a hand. She looked almost nervous, like he would refuse to touch her or something. 

He took her hand with a degree of indecisiveness, then shook it firmly, surprising the pair of them. "My name is Kakuemon Jirazashi." It was the first name to hit him, and the girl, Tomoe-san, smiled. "It is nice to met you, Kakuemon-san."

"The pleasure is all mine, Tomoe-san," he replied, and she shook his head gently, with a laugh like crystal.

"You can just call me Hotaru," she said in reply, and he nodded slightly, wondering why the girl didn't mind him using her first name.

"Hotaru-san," he said softly, and was instantly reminded of another name, another honorific. 

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("I loved you, Kunzaito-sama…")

Choking back a cry, he suddenly turned from the girl, Hotaru. He could feel the tears burning at the back of his eyes – and he wondered _why now_? He had never cried outwardly, while awake, not even when he was alone. And now, sitting in the sunshine of a frosty Tokyo morning, a slight girl at his side, he suddenly felt like weeping, weeping without stopping.

"Is there something wrong?"

The compassionate whisper from the girl, a hand lightly on his arm, caused him to look back at her, his argent-cerulean eyes filled with bitter tears. She stared at him for a moment, her own eyes wide and tender.

"Oh! Your eyes…they are so filled with pain…you're in pain." She looked at him with so much gentle consideration, so much _care_, it made him feel even worse.

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Why should this girl care about me? I could kill her with a thought, and put her out of her_ misery…_

Hotaru leant over to place her gentle small hands over one of his. He stared at her tiny hands, his eyes wide, yet still masked by his deep pain. He could feel her wide, dark eyes on his skin, almost as if she was looking right through him. Once again, he could feel that peculiar aura, with such a familiar ring to it. Like he had felt it before, in a lesser form, almost…

"Kakuemon-san," she whispered softly, her voice mellifluous and low. He wanted to look up, but somehow, all he could feel was an intense ball of pain growing in his chest, one that grew from a small flame to a burning white sphere that threatened to consume him. 

"Your pain is so great," she said sadly, as she moved her small, soft fingers over his. He could feel the softness of her ivory skin, and he was so close to her, he could smell her musky, ambrosial scent, one that surrounded her like a light curtain. 

Still, the confused auras. Waves of energy surrounded her, _but they were distinctly different in nature and in purpose._

As Hotaru continued to move her hands softly over his own, he closed his eyes in intense anguish, and she sighed softly.

"Kakuemon-san," she whispered, sounding almost apologetic. 

Kunzite felt the change in the energies – he felt what she suddenly did to him. All of a sudden, he suddenly felt so much _lighter_, and for a moment, his heart felt like it was _whole_, not broken as it had been.

The sensation, the joyous bubble, burst quickly, though he did not immediately spiral back down to the depths of despair where he had once been resident. His heart felt just as broken as before, but the sharpness, the bitter acidity of his own failure to love his student just as Zoisaito-chan had always loved him, was slightly neutralised.

Opening his argent-cerulean eyes, he raised his head to stare with frank amazement at the young girl. She seemed a little taken aback at the naked emotion in his eyes, but she did not take her hands away from his. Continuing on with whatever she was doing, she said softly "Would you like me to stop, Kakuemon-sama?"

He winced at the honorific, wondering just what kind of bond it was that she had invoked between them. Was it possible that she _knew_ the last person who had addressed him as "sama" with such obvious concern, compassion?

"What are you doing to me?" he asked softly, not asking her to stop, physically or verbally. He stayed close to her, and allowed himself to stare directly into her luminous eyes, twin lakes of midnight violet. "Hotaru...Hotaru-chan?"

She smiled slightly, seeming a little startled by the affectionate honorific he used in relation to her own name. "I feel your pain, Kakuemon-san. I don't like to see anyone in pain."

A little overwhelmed by her blatant desire to help him, Kunzite took several seconds to speak an honest reply. "You must make a good friend, Hotaru-san."

A flash of pain flickered in her deep eyes, a pain whose nature that was obvious to the recently bereaved Kunzite. It was loneliness, pure and simple.

This emotion was echoed in her low words, as she cast her eyes downward and murmured "I haven't got many friends."

He was more than a little surprised at the revelation, though he didn't for a second doubt it's authenticy. Though he found it hard to believe such a passionately _kind_ person as Tomoe Hotaru had little or no friendship in her life, he knew that she was not lying. Then again, maybe he could understand it. Despite the kind, quiet strength of her personality, he could still sense the darkness overhanging her head like some kind of bitter daemon. 

"How is that possible?" he asked softly, and he did wonder. In the Dark Kingdom, friendships were rare and far between, love an even stranger emotion. But here on Earth, love, trust and friendship were a part of everyday life. How was is that this young girl, with the beautiful aura not quite eclipsed by the deeper, darker _resident_, had the inclination or reason to say that she had no friends?

Hotaru blinked her eyes several times, and then sighed very shallowly. Her breathing was obviously never very deep or easy, Kunzite could now see. "Anything is possible…I think you just discovered that, ne?"

Hardly surprised by the girl's odd insight, Kunzite nodded. "I never thought I would lose what I never really knew I had…do you know what I mean?"

Hotaru nodded slightly, and replied with "You feel great pain, Kakuemon-san…I know you do, I tried to take some of it away. But you feel such an awful, abysmal loneliness. I can't help you with that…I think only you can. Kakuemon-san, what is truly wrong with you?" She then stared piercingly into his argent cerulean eyes with her own midnight violet shade. 

Wondering why he was saying such a thing, Kunzite suddenly blurted out "Sometimes, I feel like…I feel like…I don't know, I missed the boat or something."

The amusement in her eyes, kind and not mocking, reassured him that he was not simply going insane. She smiled slightly, and touched a hand to his temple for perhaps a second, before removing it. "You must get to know the driver better. The boat will wait for you, Kakuemon-san."

She stood then, the sun reflecting off her dark shiny hair. Framed in the sunlight, her dark eyes freed from the characteristic shadows, she appeared almost goddess-like, her simple radiance shielding her for only a moment. Then, that darkness fell about her like some vile cloak, her eyes becoming dark and eclipsed by an ominous twilight again. 

Turning back to him, she smiled that shy, promising little smile, a child's innocent smile that seemed to grant assurance that the sun would be out tomorrow, and that there was always that happy ending everyone was always searching so desperately for. "Good luck with your heart, Kakuemon-san."

"And you, Tomoe-san," he murmured quietly, and he watched the peculiar girl walk slowly away from him. Out of his life. 

She seemed to meld into the shadows of the lightly-scented trees, and he shook his head slightly. He could smell the gentle scent of sakura blossoms, even though they were not in bloom.

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("You must get to know the driver better…the boat will wait for you…")

"How did you get so wise, little one?" asked Kunzite of the azure sky, though his question was truly directed at the strangely arresting Tomoe Hotaru. 

What had this girl taught him? She had said that the boat would wait for him…that _he_ would wait for him. "Maybe it is true, that somewhere, we will met again, whether it be heaven, hell, or a place that transcends all reason," he murmured to himself, staring up into the clear blue sky. The air was chilly, the breeze cold, but Kunzite was untouched by all this. 

He wore his conviction like a protective shield. He knew he had to go back to his dim, gloomy world, and that he would have to go it alone. As he had before he had ever known Zoisite. 

Hotaru, however, had shown him something. By taking away the blinding pain of his grieving love for Zoisite, she had shown him that love very rarely had an end through means of mortality.

"I am still alive…and even though you are gone, I will never stop loving you…" The words sounded weak and clichéd to his own ears, but he was rewarded with a strange reply. One that he held in his heart until his own death, faithfully positive he had heard those words, in that familiar softly, silvery tenor. He believed that they were real – because he knew that he would not fool his own mind. 

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("And I'll be right here, waiting for you…")

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Ha! Did everybody enjoy my psychotic ramblings? And if not – WHY NOT?! Oh, look at me go, I think I have lost my mind yet again…incidentally, there are song lyrics scattered through this, mainly "Viva Forever," "through the eyes of ruby" and "Right Here Waiting" none of which I wrote, okay? Ta! 


	2. Angelic Intervention

Okay, this is another little story I wrote while in one of my "moods…" i.e. it is very strange and weird because I myself am strange and weird…and there's nothing wrong with that, is there? I mean, if you're afraid of me, you should be afraid of Amberlin, too – she's just as whacked as I am!

So, well – this story is about Zoisite, and has an alternate title of "Last Chance." Because that's what it is…a very last chance. For Zoisite, at least. This is based on the fact that I believe we all have a chance to turn around before we screw everything up for the last time…

This is set in the episode where Zoisite almost gets the last nijizuishou – but lovely little Tuxedo Kamen "borrows" it for a bit…

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"Angelic" Intervention

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I stared after the idiot for only a moment, before yelling at the baka capeboy to stop, and racing after him. Calling for the youma that the fat cat had produced, I ignored the idiotic Senshi behind me. I never had any patience or tolerance for those little girls. They were under-trained, and probably the most annoying creatures ever created – especially that whining cry baby, Sailor Moon…

Concentrating on my quarry, I moved stealthily forward, not really stopping to think on any kind of plan other than do whatever it took. Of course, Kunzite-sama had always warned me against such actions, but then, I never had been one to listen to people. Not even my beloved Kunzite-sama. 

I fought first, thought last. It had always been my way, and always will be, I suppose. Of course, physical confrontations have never been a favourite of mine…but give me a reason, no matter how petty, and I'm in like you wouldn't believe. 

I never have been one to meld into a crowd, yet I decided for an odd reason not to draw attention to myself in the busy Tokyo street. Deep inside a crowd of people, I stood in amongst a waiting group. All waiting to cross the street, and I stood there, impatiently tapping my foot. Restless to a fold, I ignored the protests from the surrounding people, and pushed through them to cross the street purposefully and quickly.

As I made to step off the kerb, a strong hand wrapped long fingers around my shoulder, and tightened considerably. Before I even realised it was happening, I was yanked back rather severely, just in time to see a large inter-city bus whoosh by my prone body, two inches from my nose.

Startled into an unusual shock, I stared at the road, my body beginning to tremble oh so slightly. I then abruptly spun around to face the person, whose hand by now had dropped from my shoulder. 

I was bewildered to look upon that woman for the first time – I was deeply under the impression that I had seen her somewhere before. Her eyes were the strangest shade I had ever seen – they were _red,_ I could have sworn it…and her hair was a long shower of deep green, some of it pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. She was taller than me by several inches, which immediately made me uneasy around her. People usually accused me of being suspicious of them, but given my height, my physical abilities were easily outdone by anyone even slighter bigger than I was. Therefore, paranoia was my life. 

Her smile was only half there – I couldn't even be sure she _was_ smiling, and certainly not at me. Yet, I was the only one in her cerise gaze. I found to my horror I could not look away – and to my even greater dismay, I found I did not _want _to look away.

"Arigatoo," I stammered out after several seconds of blank staring at the tall, silent woman with the remarkable eyes. 

The smile that quirked her lips at that moment scared me terribly – and little truly frightened me. The fear of being alone, the fear of losing the only thing that ever took my loneliness away, no matter how briefly…

"It was my pleasure," she replied softly, her voice husky and deep. It was an almost mesmerising voice, but instinctively, I wanted to pull away from the influence of that particular voice. Listening to people was never a great hobby of mine. 

Even though we were surrounded by people on that busy sidewalk, even though capeboy was disappearing into the sunset with my nijizuishou at that particular moment in time, I felt as if there was little else in the universe besides she and I. 

Her odd little smile turned almost condescending with her next words. "You should be more careful, however." 

I don't know what it was. Any kind of comment along those lines was an insult to me. "Was that meant to be an offensive remark?" I asked coolly, though she could see how livid I was through my blazing eyes. "Because I fully intend to take it as one."

I seemed to amuse her with my childish rage. She reached out a long fingered hand towards my own, still encased in white even though I was dressed in a long black coat, much like your average Mormon. 

The touch lasted only a brief second, yet it sent a bolt of electricity shooting up my arm. She took her hand from mine, and smiled lightly. "I haven't got the time to watch over you forever. You'll have to start looking after yourself." 

"I haven't needed a babysitter in at least the last year," I replied dryly, even though internally, this woman was making me highly uncomfortable. Those cerise eyes were highly unnerving, and I couldn't help thinking that I had seen them somewhere before. 

Without thinking, I said in an almost trembling voice as I gazed into those strangely arresting eyes, "I feel like I know you."

I think she heard the almost child-like wonder in my voice. She half-smiled, and replied softly "I know you." She looked up towards the other road, in precisely the opposite direction to what the esteemed Tuxedo Kamen had taken. Her long dress swayed about her long lithe body as she did so, the black fabric seeming to enhance her overall darkness. She seemed to remind me of someone else – her peculiar aura was surprisingly _familiar_ – but she also seemed a lot _darker_ than whatever it was she reminded me of. Dark may have been an incorrect word. Maybe it was just because she seemed so _old_, even though she couldn't have been that much older than me. Certainly she was younger than Kunzite-sama, but she had an air of elder wisdom about her…like she had seen much pain and suffering in her life. 

She indicated the direction opposite to Tuxedo Kamen's path with a long elegant arm. I had been about to move after capeboy, but her words halted me.

"Not that way – this way."

I stared at he, stunned. This bizarre woman had just saved my life – and I had the overwhelming feeling _that she was doing it again._

"N-nanii?" I asked softly, stumbling over the word. 

Fortunately for me, the odd woman didn't seem to mind having to repeat herself to me, even though I sensed she had little patience. She inclined her head in the direction she was moving in, her eyes seeming to command me to follow her. "This way."

I nodded slightly to her, echoing the soft command. "This way."

She turned and walked away, her long, dark green hair swinging behind her like a heavy velvet curtain as she almost appeared to glide across the street. I watched her in silent awe for a moment, her regal movement causing her dress to ripple gently like the deepest of oceans. Even though she was turned away, I could still feel her cerise eyes boring into my own verdant, still see her half-hearted smile, still hear her husky drawl.

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("Not that way…this way.") 

She had melded so easily into the crowd, like a shadowy _angel_…like she had not even existed, except for me. I looked after her, undecided for a moment. She had told me to follow her, and it almost seemed to me that she was offering me some kind of peculiar lifeline. 

I looked after her path for a moment longer.

I turned around and strode quickly in the direction of that baka capeboy, Tuxedo Kamen.

I never had been one to listen to people.

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	3. Si An Ghaoth Do Ghuth

Okay, everybody – the insanity continues forever, unabated, as I decide to write another of my infamously STRANGE short stories…blame Amberlin for this one. She told me that I had to bring the other two Outer Senshi into my stories somehow, so here we go…you've seen Hotaru-chan meet Kunzite-sama, and you've seen Zoisite-kun run into Setsuna-san…so, who's next? 

Oh yeah, a note. I don't know what side of the road the Japanese drive on, and when I said that to my father, he told me it was the left, the same as New Zealanders do…gomen nasai if we're wrong!

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Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics and Toei Animation. 

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Sí an Ghaoth do Ghuth

(The Wind Is Your Voice)

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The wind had always been something to make the pain go away. It could be soft, soothing, it could be fast, raking long fingers through his hair, showing him that for even just a few moments, he could be _free_, as free as the enraged element of air. 

He could _be_ the wind – at least, on occasion.

Especially when he was in his Ferrari.

Ah, temptation. Nephrite was severely under the delusion that the large numbers at the end of the speedometer were _not_ strictly for decoration. They were a challenge. Besides, if the car manufacturers had designed the blasted car to go that fast, why shouldn't he tempt the local policemen into giving him a speeding ticket?

Truly, the police could be so over sensitive some days. It was only a little bit of law-bending, to test the physical laws of kinematics and see how fast he could go. A little bit of harmless fun – but woe if a lowly pedestrian should come into view. Truth be told, Nephrite wasn't the least bit worried about hitting anybody. He had great faith in both his reflexes and his magical abilities. Besides, even if by some cruel twist of fate he should hit something living, death was the least of his worries. If in the event he did collide with living flesh, he'd probably just sue the victim's next of kin for damages. No-one dented his car with their prone bodies, at least, not without paying for it.

Nephrite had to laugh at the direction his thoughts were taking. How very _peculiar_ of him. Though he had to admit to himself that it was a welcome respite from the other problems of his thoughts of late. Like Osaka Naru, for instance.

Scowling, Nephrite adjusted the brakes as he came up to one of the rare intersections on the coastal road, not far from the bustling hub of Tokyo. At this time of early evening though, the road was fairly quiet. The city's centre was quite a ways from this part, though he was still technically within the bounds of the sprawling city.

As he stopped beneath the red lights, he sighed impatiently, waiting for it to change. Just as he was finishing contemplating running the red light, another low-slung sports car peeled up behind him, barely halting two inches from the rear bumper of Nephrite's beloved car. The driver, whose features were indistinguishable in Nephrite's rear view mirror, suddenly slammed a fist down on their horn, irritating the Hell out of the Dark Kingdom denizen. Resisting the severe temptation to throw the car into reverse and show the other driver that he was quite the kamikaze driver, he slammed the accelerator to the ground and released the clutch. He was much too fond of his car to wreck it today – he was magical, his car was not. 

He pealed out of intersection, the light still red. The other car was still directly on his tail, he noted with mild annoyance. It seemed he was not the only one who enjoyed a good testing of his car's acceleration abilities. 

They continued for quite a ways down the road in this way, the rear driver severely tail gating Nephrite in excess of a hundred km/h. As they finally reached another deserted intersection, the driver cut into the lane beside Nephrite, the one designed for oncoming traffic. As they did so, they unwound their window, motioning for Nephrite to do the same. Nephrite, in a the left lane, wound his window down, as the blonde haired young man leaned across his passenger seat, a slightly predatory smile on his features.

"You're not a bad driver," he called across the small gap between them. "Most people would have let me overtake them miles back – but you took those corners at speeds that would make me a little reluctant." A smile of pure amusement crossed his features. "Still, though – it was fun. How about a real race?"

Nephrite was a little startled by the young man's challenge, but he didn't allow it to show. "Do you really think you could seriously beat me in some kind of race?"

The young man cocked an eyebrow, daring him to decline. "I don't think so, old man – I _know_ so." 

"I'm probably a lot younger than you think. You're on." He looked up, and noted that the lights had changed from red to green to red again in the time they had spoken. "When the lights are green?"

"Hai." The window slid up, the engine of the opposing car rumbling ominously.

The light turned green.

Slamming the accelerator down as he released the clutch, Nephrite found himself imbued with a rush of adrenaline. So excited was he, he almost laughed at himself. All he was doing was racing a young, stupid human, why did it make him feel like he was so…_alive._ Like the wind…

He had to marvel at the younger man's impeccable handling of his own car – he managed to keep head to head with Nephrite, seemingly with very little effort. He must had some nerve, too – he was driving down a windy cliff side road at a ludicrously high speed on the wrong side of the road.

Nephrite sighed, and turned his attention back to his own driving, which though just as maniacal as his opponent's, was slighter safer in the respect he didn't have to worry about oncoming traffic. 

As they continued to thunder down the winding road, he began to wonder just how _long_ the other driver was planning to make this go for. They hadn't mentioned an end to it, so Nephrite smiled tightly to himself. It was obviously a psyche-out kind of game – whoever lost his nerve first. 

__

This kid has got to be kidding, if he thinks I'm going to lose some stupid little psychological game with him…I am a virtual master _of manipulation…look at Osaka Naru._

Nephrite guided the car easily around another bend, coming on to a rather unusual straight. Such stretches of road were fairly rare on this particular route. 

A sleek black sedan rounded the corner up ahead and began to head down towards the reckless pair.

Nephrite cursed soundly, then suddenly laughed at his own paranoia. _Must be losing my touch – maybe I really _am_ getting old._ This was his antagonist's problem, not his. Smirking slightly, he turned his head slightly, fully expecting to see that his little friend had dropped behind, like any good little safe driver.

His jaw dropped.

The young driver was still at his side, the pair of them still racing towards the other car, who also didn't seem on the verge of stopping. After all, the black sedan had right of way.

__

Maybe the kid's an arrogant American who has forgotten he's in Japan now. Nephrite cursed again, but stubbornly refused to slow his speed. If the little _kyoosoo no untenshu_ wanted to commit suicide, who was he to interrupt their kamikaze run? 

The other car was now close, only a few seconds having passed. Nervously, Nephrite looked over again, noticing that nothing had changed with the other driver. He really _was_ insane. 

"Shit," he muttered, but he still didn't slow down. If worst came to worst, he could risk a huge expenditure of energy and warp his car and himself out of any potential smash. The three cars were still unchanged in position, and Nephrite tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

Suddenly, the car beside him pulled forward, closer to the car in front. Nephrite's eyes widened, wondering just what in the Hell was going on. The blaring of the other car's horn shattered the tense silence – not that Nephrite could blame the driver. The irregular bursts of sound belied a panicked driver, though it seemed both he and his erstwhile companion were doing just fine. 

The cars were definitely too close for comfort – a smash was inevitable, Nephrite thought. This was just ridiculous.

The other driver, with an amazing burst of speed, suddenly pulled ahead of Nephrite, and to his shock, pulled across lanes in front of him, the black sedan speeding by on his right barely more than a second later. Nephrite slammed on the brakes, trying desperately to avoid hitting the car in front of him – more out of concern for his own car than theirs. 

The car continued onward for a little further, before pulling off the road into a small look out bay, grinding easily to a halt centimetres from the railing in front of the cliff. Without thinking, Nephrite did the same. It was as if he _had_ to do so. He reasoned with himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt that is was because he wanted to meet his reckless companion. Somehow though, he felt there was actually another reason. One he hadn't even considered. 

The other man had already abandoned his car, and was leaning his tall frame on the railing, looking out across the bay. His sandy hair ruffled slightly in the breeze, and his voice was husky and low as he addressed Nephrite without turning. "I take it I won that particular race?" He sounded as if he were smiling.

__

Oh, yes? And what does a smile sound_ like? Huh, Neffy-chan?_

Ignoring this little voice, Nephrite smiled tightly. "I take it you've already decided, am I correct?"

A low laugh escaped his throat as he turned – and his aquamarine eyes, a cross between green and blue, widened slightly. "I recognise you – you're Sanjouin Masato, aren't you?"

Raising an eyebrow, he nodded, moving to stand beside the young man at the railing. "Hai. How did you know?"

He snorted. "Intuition." Nephrite wondered why that remark was oddly unsettling – like there was a word missing from it, a word that could mean a lot. 

"I take it you like to race?" he asked slowly, looking over at his handsome profile.

The young man cast him a surprised look, smiled hesitantly, and looked back to the sky. "Boku wa kaze ni naritai…"

"Excuse me?" asked Nephrite, looking to the young man again. He noted how even though the young man was very handsome, there was an almost feminine grace about the way he moved on occasion. It was something that reminded him a little of Zoisite, though admittedly, _that_ little sakura didn't really look like a man – unlike this youth. 

"I want to become the wind," he repeated, and he turned almost laughing eyes on the 'young business man.' "Have you ever just wished you could fly away, and just be free of everything on this planet?"

Startled, he gave the handsome young man a perplexed look. "What do you mean?"

The boy laughed, slightly cynically. "Is your life really so perfect, Sanjouin-san?"

The use of his alter-ego's name startled him further, and finally provoked him into asking the youth his name. "Onamae wa?"

The boy looked up, a slight smile tinting his features. "Ten'ou Haruka."

"Doozo yoroshiku, Haruka," replied Nephrite with a slight smile, even though he wasn't really very pleased to meet the young man. It was just general politeness. "Do you usually challenge strangers when you're driving around town?"

The young man laughed out loud at that, and smiled again, though he still seemed rather melancholy. "Not usually, no. I get enough competition on the race track, though occasionally, I do have to tempt fate and live a little dangerously."

"You're skating the edge," remarked Nephrite, taking in the young man's features with barely disguised curiosity. He couldn't put a finger on it, but there was something about the young man that unsettled him. He just couldn't put his finger on it. 

"I am the edge," replied Haruka without smiling, and he then ran his hand through his hair in what Nephrite decided was a decidedly feminine gesture. With a start, he realised that this was what was irritating him, niggling at the back of his mind. "Are you…"

"Nanii?"

"You're a woman, aren't you?" The voice, he realised, was another not too subtle clue. Haruka had a deep voice, but when he or she grew melancholy, it became decidedly feminine. "Aren't you?"

Haruka grinned. "Very good, Sanjouin-sama. Most people don't pick up on that unless I tell them. You'll have to tell me, what gave me away?"

Nephrite shrugged. "I suppose I'm just perceptive."

The young woman snorted. "And wonderfully modest. I didn't insult your manhood by kicking your ass in that drag race, did I? I'm always up for a rematch."

"I bet you are," Nephrite replied dryly, though he did admire the spunk of this girl. She had real chutzpah – he found himself thinking that she would make a much better Sailor Senshi than that klutz Sailor Moon. 

__

Senshi…senshi…why does this girl remind you of the Sailor Senshi all of a sudden?

Nephrite brushed aside the irritating voice, trying to push thoughts of the pigtailed so-called 'heroine' from his mind. She was only one little girl – what could she do to him?

Haruka seemed to notice his change in mood, and her blue-green eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him. "Is that a polite declination of my offer, Sanjouin-san?"

"It would appear so," he replied dryly, moving back slowly from the railing. He looked towards his car, and decided that enough was enough. This strangely surreal little meeting had reached its somewhat sour conclusion. 

"Matte."

He turned back to the girl with an annoyed look, his pale sapphire eyes narrowing in exasperation. "Why do you ask me to wait, Ten'ou-san?"

Haruka, still leaning against the railing, crossed one elegant ankle over the other, her face moving into an almost insidious smile. "Why, Sanjouin-san, I don't believe I _asked_ you to wait. I _told_ you to wait."

Cocking an eyebrow, Nephrite stared at the girl from his standing position. She continued to smile her oddly unsettling smile, her sandy short hair set on fire by the falling sun. He wondered if she was laughing at him. "Is that so?"

"It's always so." Haruka chose that moment to stand up straight, her tall svelte form outlined by the setting sun. She seemed to regard him critically from her own vantage point, and it seemed to Nephrite that they stared at each other for a long time. 

__

What is it about this girl? Why does she remind you so strongly of…of the Sailor Senshi?

"You never answered my question," she said in a deceptively soft voice. Her unusual aquamarine eyes seemed to flash a calm warning. "Do you want to try your hand at a rematch? Just to prove that you're not _always_ beaten by a girl?"

The mocking in her voice made his hackles bristle, but it was not because of the fact that she _had_ beaten him – it was the allusion she made, completely unaware that she was doing it…all his plans were thwarted by a mere slip of a girl. 

"Sanjouin-san?" Her voice seemed to come to him from a million miles away, as she moved slightly closer to him on the lookout of the road. "You're not a _okubyoo-mono_…are you?"

The insult startled Nephrite out of his comatose state of thought, his eyes snapping icy fire as he glared at the smirking girl. "No, I most certainly am _not,_ Ten'ou-san!" he replied nastily, before turning to stalk back to his car.

As he made to do so, Haruka grabbed his wrist, effectively stopping him dead in his tracks. The Dark King was so shocked by this move on her part, he simply halted, and did not turn. 

He felt the tall woman move closer to his side, and lean towards him. Her lips were only centimetres from his ear when she finally spoke in her husky drawl. 

__

"Sí an ghaoth do ghuth,

Sí an bháisteach do dheora,

Grian, do chroí ar las,

Do spiorad mo shlánú."

Haruka then released his hand, and sauntered casually away. As she slipped with easy elegance into her own car, she turned back to him, her eyes almost friendly.

"I called you a coward, Sanjouin-sama. Somehow, though, I think I was wrong." She smiled then, and then her face took on an almost melancholy look. "I wonder…I wonder why I hope I was. Ja ne, Sanjouin-san. Keep a look out – I know, evil is always where you forget to look."

She pulled out of the lookout point easily, the car vanishing around the corner in a matter of seconds.

Nephrite listened to the car go, and he looked back to the setting sun. And he thought. 

It was strange how this young girl, who had raced with him so easily, and treated him like dirt in the process, could speak such eloquent words. Words that her eyes had demanded he speak to some kind of God, to seek some absolution.

__

The wind is your voice,

The rain is your tears,

Your burning heart

And spirit is my salvation.

Sometimes, he thought this insanity would never end.

He slowly walked away, back to his car, and climbed in. Switching on the ignition, he revved the engine several times before peeling out of the parking space. And he wondered – wondered how that girl had spoken so simply in another language. How had he understood her, when he himself didn't even know precisely what language she had spoken in? It was like the voices in the wind…they spoke to him in a language he could hear, but understood only with the deepest part of himself. 

Sometimes, he wondered if he was going insane. What could he possibly care about gaining some freakish salvation from a God he didn't even believe in? Why should he worry about an absolution he didn't even deserve? For surely to wish for such a thing would be pure insanity. Who needed their foolish Gods, and their even more ridiculous forgiveness?

And yet sometimes he wished he would go insane.

______________________________________________________________________________________

So, what do you think of this little mess? Too peculiar? Well, excuse me for saying so, but I AM peculiar, therefore it is rather evident in my writing…then again, you didn't NEED to be told that, did you?!

Comments to make? Don't be a stranger now, send 'em to luna_dreamscape@hotmail.com I love email!

Oh, note – _kyoosoo no untenshu_ means "racing driver." Ja ne, minna! *giggle* 


	4. Fire Walk With Me

So, do you wonder what this story must entail? It's called completing the square. So far, I've had three of the Outer Senshi somehow offer a little bit of "help" to three of the Dark Kingdom Kings…

And then there were two.

__

Sailor Moon is the property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha Comics and Toei Animation.

*****

****

Fire Walk With Me

*****

I was beautiful once.

A strange thing to say – but when you gaze upon something as lovely as that girl who stood on that stage, playing her blessed heart out, it didn't seem that peculiar. Certainly I could see what was dark in me was opposite to what was bright in her. That was – and is – my own "humble" opinion, and in this twisted little world, what else matters? Self-absorption is my life – because I have nothing else to live for. 

Ah, dig me a well to cry in before I begin – for I have lost much, and there is much I should repent for. But there is time enough for that later. I have all eternity to lament my fate – and wish for something more.

I grow so melancholy – oh, but how I have changed. Before, there was no time for such _weak_ emotions. 

Give me eternity, and I have time for everything that I once neglected. It is far too bad that I cannot apologise, cannot repent, for who would listen to me now? I speak the language of the dead, the language of the unformed, because I am lost beyond a hope. Lost beyond a trace.

Sometimes, I think I can still hear that violin music.

It's odd, the things you remember when you have eternity to muse over the past. The most peculiar events stick in my head…like the violin.

And like the shrine maiden.

Yes, Hino Rei, the fiery red Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Mars. Strange how I can remember her with such a mixture of hate, love, triumph and regret. 

Maybe it all comes down to the violinist that I remember so vividly. Why does that girl stay in my head? She was only a part of my life for but a fleeting moment – but she is forever engraved onto my mind. How could that possibly be? 

Maybe it is because of the strange nature of the meeting I became entangled in with her. She was a strange soul with a peculiar magnetism – peculiar because it worked both ways. It attracted me to her – God how it attracted me to her – but it also repulsed me in a manner I cannot describe. It was as if she were pulling me to her with one arm and pushing me away with the other.

Perhaps that mystery is what made me stay, I don't know. All I do know is that she had an aura I couldn't ignore.

I know who she reminded me of. It was too obvious to be missed – the fact that the violinist had the aura of the damned Sailor Senshi. I only realised it because of the title of the piece which she played on her violin with such ease. 

Fire Walk With Me.

There. The goddess whom I loved a thousand years ago. My reminder of who she was – and what a stupid idiot I was to think I could walk away from her. I asked the Martian Princess to walk with me a thousand years ago, knowing full well I was playing with fire to wish for such a thing. Once we set down that path together, our paths were destined to cross again and again and again. 

I burned myself, but that was to be expected. After all, I did realise what I was doing by following Beryl into the depths of Metallia's personal Hell. 

Yes, it was the title that made me realise just what that violinist was – even if she did not know it herself. She had the calm, tranquil aura of a water element Senshi about her, and that is why I could see her elegant power, surrounding her like a graceful curtain of absolute power. Because it was so different to that of the woman I loved a thousand years ago. Mars. The raven-haired beauty who shall hate me forever, because she always _could_ hold a grudge.

The meeting, however…I still remember that violinist…Kaiou Michiru…

* * *

The auditorium was certainly remarkable, and I noted with some glee the amount of people crammed into this space. Yes, this _would_ be a marvellous place to set up a youma to gather energy from all the pathetic, culturally-correct humans who liked to come here on Saturday evenings. 

Seated in my own private box, alone as I so desired, I tapped fingers absently on the table as I thought on the plan I was formulating. The calm decorum of the auditorium was a welcome respite from the dark tenseness of the Dark Kingdom – and the rich, royal colours of gold, purple and red decorating the hall certainly worked to give me a flash of welcome colour. The greys and dark, organic greens of my home were not exactly aesthetically pleasing to one such as myself. One who liked to paint, liked to draw. A mere hobby, but one that kept me sane, nonetheless. Though some _would_ choose to debate that little fact. People like Nephrite, for instance. Still he mocked me for trying to take energy from so many, when he so thoughtfully told me that it would be more beneficial to get energy from one person at a time. Ha. Like _that_ could ever work. Well, as they say, too much alcohol dulls the mind. 

The soft buzz of the people seated below me was still annoying, even though the sound was far from threatening. I was a person who had always desired, always loved silence. There was no logical reason for me to be at such a display except for reasons of business. Quiet had always been something I had preferred, though I am yet to figure out why. 

I tapped out an impatient staccato beat on the mahogany table, as to my intense relief, the lights lowered, and the sound ceased with barely a further provocation. The silence was only to last a short period – for a tall lithe man stepped onto the stage with a long, silver flute in hand. I only half-watched him play. He was not someone I wanted to youmanize for my own purposes. Not one of my little gang of youma could pretend to be that blonde-haired man, I decided that in an instant.

I listened to the other performers with half an ear, suddenly feeling drastically lonely. I don't know why – perhaps because everybody else there was with someone – friend, lover, relative – and I was alone. It made me think. The Dark Kingdom wasn't a place for friendship or love, though I knew full well such rare emotions could come into play. The melancholy silver king Kunzite and his volatile sakura Zoisite were proof enough of such things. Though I never believed they would last the way they did. 

Still…I was on the verge of leaving when the girl's name was announced – the violinist. Kaiou Michiru…

I turned from the door of the box to stare down at the girl. Her tall, svelte form, encased in a simple beaded black dress, was bathed in the light of a single spotlight. Her eyes were closed as she lifted the violin to her chin, her sea-green hair shining with threads of gold in the light.

She opened her eyes – blue. Neptune's blue – it was like she held the ocean in her eyes. It wasn't then that I knew her for what she was, though. 

Even though I had heard the title of her piece – Fire Walk With Me.

__

ReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiReiRei

Call me a man obsessed, but at that moment a name rang through my head, the name of the Princess of Mars as it was a thousand years ago.

Yes, and then she played. This Kaiou Michiru, beautiful like no other human I had seen before. She had an air of grace about her that was different to any of these so-called supermodels I had noticed teenaged girls liked to idolise. Unlike them – who in my humble opinion had looks that didn't actually make up for their deficiency in brain cells – Kaiou Michiru had a different kind of beauty. 

No, the violinist had an aura of strength about her – almost angelic, but still too earthen to be rightly called heavenly. 

I decided then that _this_ girl would be the one my friendly neighbourhood youma would imitate, so that after next week's concert, I would have a hefty amount of energy to give Queen Beryl-sama. After all, I could see the way the girl held her audience captive with her beautiful music. 

Still…I felt as if I were missing something. Something in the title that reflected something in her oceanic eyes…it was if I knew this girl. From a thousand years ago.

And, I won't lie and say I have completely forgotten the past, as I know the Senshi have. I know the other three kings remember nothing – I tried to ask Zoisite about it once, and he just stared at me blankly when I mentioned Serenity. Nephrite did much the same – and Kunzite. Ah, he could know more than he lets on – Lord knows, there is an unreadable book, even to Zoisite, who tries so desperately to thaw his heart – but I don't think so. For some unfathomable reason, it is I alone who remembers the fall of the Moon Kingdom. Not that I like to talk about it. 

Or even think about it.

But that girl…she brought up a lot of bad memories with that one song. I tried to convince myself my sudden desire to meet her face to face was because I wanted to use her in an energy plot. I fooled no-one but myself with that one. 

When the concert was over, I went to her dressing room with but a thought. The glories of negative power, I guess you could call it. She didn't seem at all surprised to see me, and that is what began my tentative liking of the girl. She was seated at her dressing table, brushing out her wavy sea-green hair, staring enraptured at her reflection. Not that she appeared overly vain. I had the impression that she was deep in thought on more important things than her looks. 

She saw me appear from no-where to stand behind her in her mirror. She slowly stopped her rhythmic brushing, and placed the brush down on the dressing table with careful decorum. Using on lithe leg hidden beneath the dress, she turned the chair around so that she faced me. There was no smile on her face, but there was no anger nor surprise. She looked frankly neutral. "At least I know you're not a vampire."

Her first words – in such a lovely voice. Spoken perfectly seriously, without worry or concern.

"I'm not exactly a vampire," I replied softly, looking at her with barely concealed curiosity. "How did you know I wasn't?"

"I can see your reflection in the mirror," she replied matter-of-factly, standing up to extend a hand to me. "Forgive my rudeness – my name is Kaiou Michiru."

"It's nice to meet you, Kaiou-san," I replied, shaking her hand. Obviously, to this extraordinary musician, manners came before asking probing questions about how I had materialised into her dressing room. 

"No name? I don't suppose it matters," she said lightly, turning around to pick up her brush again. Running it through her hair, I noticed a small smile start to play at her lips. "Have you something to ask me? I take it you don't usually run around town materialising in random girls' dressing rooms."

I had to crack a smile at this – the tension in this room was practically non-existent. I couldn't understand why, but this girl had little or no fear of me. "It would certainly be a very impolite hobby to have. Therefore, I don't tend to do such things." 

She raised a playful eyebrow. "You do it just for me, then?"

I had to crack a smile – she was certainly easy to talk to. "Does that surprise you?"

She laughed out loud. "Nothing surprises me anymore." She then looked at me more closely, squinting her aqua eyes as she did so. "I know you."

"You do?"

"Hai," she replied, and then suddenly went off on another, completely different, tangent. "Why do you do this?"

"Nanii?"

"Come into stranger's rooms, and stare at them?" I think she was on the verge of laughter – and how I longed to hear that laughter! I knew it would be the sweetest sound… "Are you just curious, or is there a deeper reason for your obvious restlessness?"

I had to think on that one. Though my mouth was famous for disengaging itself from my brain, therefore it went off on me completely. "I'm just looking for my lost love." 

"Love?" she asked, looking perplexed. Then she smiled. "You know about love?"

I had to laugh, though slightly uncomfortably. "I don't know why I said that. All I know about love is some mathematician's quote on the damned thing."

"Oh?" She seemed intrigued. "And what is that?"

I shifted my feet a little before answering. "Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness."

My quoted words seemed to have a profound effect on the young woman, who visibly recoiled. "Not everything is fatal," she said softly, and then she frowned. Her whole face seemed to change into a visage of pain as she whispered her next words, in an urgently heartbroken voice. "And that was doesn't kill us only makes us _stranger_…"

I was startled beyond belief at her abrupt, painful change in demeanour. "Are you all right, Michiru-san?" I asked, seamlessly slipping into the use of her first name. She didn't appear to care.

"No…no I'm not all right," she said softly, and then turned to the doorway. Without another word, she left the dressing room.

Standing in her hasty wake, I suddenly saw what had been staring me in the face the whole time. Crying out to be noticed.

__

She's a Sailor Senshi. A Sailor Senshi…like Rei Hino. My Rei. My princess…

* * *

I had known from her first transformation that Hino Rei was the fire element Senshi Sailor Mars. Though I had never acted upon my knowledge, I had always known. Maybe it was some dormant part of my former love for the princess she had been, but Hell. What good is thinking about the past going to do me now? I'm a little knick-knack these days, a King trapped in crystal like a mosquito trapped in amber. 

That's why I have an eternity to think about what I've done. Jadeite, sentenced to an Eternity of Hard Thought. So, what else should I do, but think on what I could and should have been? 

Naturally, thrown into all this is a healthy dose of regret. Not that it counts for much when you live in a pretty little condominium crystal with a glorious view of the River Styx. 

At least the memory of the violinist is still with me. I haven't gone insane yet, though I suppose that is a great and marvellous opportunity just waiting for me. 

When I can yank my thoughts away from the memories that a thousand years could not drag from me, I remember the violinist. What was it that she said to me that effected me so profoundly? Ah, yes. She told me that not everything was fatal, when I had told her that caution was the most mortal wound to true happiness. What was she trying to say to me? That I was using caution as an excuse? My own paranoia was what held me back from trying to garner some forgiveness from Rei? 

__

("What is she fries me what if she doesn't care what if she doesn't remember..?")

A thousand years of "what ifs?" is what I have endured, and there. There is the proof that I will endure at least another ten thousand, if not an eternity of more questions beginning with "what if"…

Yes, she had said to me that not everything is fatal.

__

("And that what doesn't kill us only makes us stranger…")

Well, I doubt I could get any stranger than this. 

______________________________________________________________________________________


End file.
